


Bar-Hopping

by Zissa



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M, Romance, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5363516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zissa/pseuds/Zissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no other man for Scarlet and no other woman for Wolf, but how does the marriage proposal go down? A requested one-shot showcasing exactly that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

               Apparently, taverns were the same, no matter what continent you were on. Scarlet smiled as she and Wolf stepped out of the heat of the New Phoenix afternoon and into the coolness of the bar’s interior. The greasy air, outdated mishmash of battered booths and tables, and the distinctive sticky floors of a cheap dive bar reminded her of the Rieux back home in France, despite being squarely planted in the American Republic. There was a pang of homesickness in her gut at that thought. It had been just over a year since the Rampion left Luna, and though she had loved getting to be a part of stopping the plague through their antidote distribution work…she was ready to be home.

                It wouldn’t be long until she would be. Scarlet leaned further into Wolf’s side as they sauntered up to the bar stretching along the back of the tavern, glancing up to catch a glimpse of his lupine profile. Until _they_ would be. Only one more stop in the southwestern region of the Republic before their route was over and Thorne had promised to fly them home.

                “You alright?” Wolf’s arm curled around her shoulders and she felt his nose nudging softly at her hair. She chuckled and leaned into the touch, propping her elbows on the cold surface of the bar while they waited for the bartender to finish with the patrons at its opposite end.

                “Fine. Just a little overheated. I’m going to be glad when we finish the deliveries here.”

                There was a snort. “ _You’re_ going to be glad? Try working in this heat with _fur_.”

                Scarlet snorted, too, and shoved his shoulder playfully, drawing a low, rumbly chuckle from Wolf. The sound echoed awkwardly off the cheap furniture, highlighting the sudden silence in the bar. The normal sounds of forks scratching on plates and glasses clinking on tabletops, of chattering patrons and hissing grease, had all ceased. Both Scarlet and Wolf glanced up, noticing for the first time since they entered that their side of the restaurant had emptied swiftly, the few people that had occupied it shifting uneasily to the far end. They were there now, staring—no, _glaring_ —at the couple. The bartender cleared his throat and shoved away from the counter he had been leaning on to saunter their way, a taunt smile pulling at his lips.

                “Ma’am…sir.” The second word was ground out through clenched teeth. “What can I get for you?”

                “You really gonna serve one of _them_ here, Craig? I thought this was a respectable dive.” A burly, dark-haired man at the other end of the bar hollered, drawing guffaws and jeers from the crowd while the bartender flinched, casting a furtive, apologetic glance their way. Wolf frowned, but didn’t comment.

                Scarlet stared for a full thirty seconds, the corners of her lips tugging down into a progressively fiercer scowl. It wasn’t the first time they’d run into this, and, in the beginning, it had been understandable. People were hurt, people were scared…people were still adapting to a rapidly shifting world. But that had been a year ago, before immigration between Earth and Luna had opened up, leading to a massive influx of Lunars—everything from shells to wolf soldiers—had descended upon Earth. What had been irritating, but expected then was no longer acceptable.

                “Excuse me?” Scarlet swiveled to face to face the huddled crowd squarely, planting her hands on her hips and glowering.

                “You heard me.” The man smiled broadly, menacingly, and shoved his chair back to saunter closer. “Your friend there? He needs to leave.” That warranted a few drunken hoots of approval and scattered applause.

“In fact, if he doesn’t leave…we’ll _make_ him leave. Ain’t that right, boys?” The noise level grew at that, fervent in its approval. Scarlet’s hands balled into fists, rage boiling up in the pit of her stomach. She opened her mouth to retort, but found herself drowned out by the sound of chairs scraping on tile and heavy footfalls as the group rose to bunch up behind its ringleader. Wolf rested a hand on her shoulder and jerked his head in the direction of the door, glancing uneasily between her face and the crowd. He’d done his best to avoid confrontations since they had left Luna, partially because they did nothing to help keep his instincts at bay…and partially because there was no contest between him and anyone short of another hybrid. Either way, he’d sooner let himself be run out of the place than engage in a brawl that likely would’ve lasted no more than two seconds.

But Scarlet wasn’t letting this go. Maintaining a nonviolent reputation was one thing, but sooner or later, you had to stop caving.

She glanced at the bar next to her with the oddest sense of déjà vu, and suddenly, before she really had time to think it through, she was gripping it with both hands and hoisting herself up onto it. Wolf stared for a moment, then bit his lip to keep from grinning and leaned back to watch. It was like the day they first met, and now, as then, Scarlet needed no help in speech-making.

“You’re disgraceful, you know that?” She hissed, pacing back and forth on the narrow countertop. “This man is a _hero_. He fought in the revolution that kept both worlds out of a tyrant’s hands! He almost died keeping people like you safe then, and now he spends his time helping keep you healthy by distributing the plague antidote, and all you can think about is what he reminds you of?”

Scarlet came to a stop in the center of the bar. “It’s one thing to be afraid. That takes time to get over, I know, but it doesn’t grant you the right to terrorize—“She paused. Friend was too small a word, but boyfriend sounded too juvenile for the relationship they had built. “—to terrorize the man I intend to marry.”

Wolf’s bushy brows shot up at that, his jaw going slack enough with shock to reveal the wicked points of his teeth. It was adorable, really.

Scarlet hopped down and stabbed a finger into the pudgy belly of the man in front, eliciting a shocked grunt. “Get over yourself before you hurt someone.” She poked him a smidge harder before leaning in to hiss through clenched teeth. “Or before someone hurts you.”

With that, she turned on her heel and reached out for Wolf. As usual, he seemed to have read her mind, already striding for the door when his massive hand closed around hers. The door slammed shut behind them with a cheerful jingle of the attached bell, the sound clashing violently with the tense events inside. They walked down the crowded sidewalk in silence for a moment before Wolf spoke, low and halting and unsure. “What you said in there…did you mean it?”

“About them not terrorizing you? Of course.”

Wolf frowned. “No. About the marriage part. Did you…I mean, do you really want to…Was that a proposal?”

“Have I ever told you anything I didn’t mean?” Scarlet smiled then, some of the ferocity easing out of her features as she sidled in closer to his side. She _did_ mean it. It wasn’t a subject they had discussed yet, by any means, but…neither had either of them discussed a future that didn’t include the other. Marriage wasn’t something she wanted right away…but it was certainly on her list. And there was absolutely no one else she would consider for the position.

Wolf stared for an instant before a broad grin unfurled on his wolfish lips, his eyes brightening with more happiness than she’d ever seen from him as he abruptly wrapped both arms around her and hoisted her off her feet for a much more passionate kiss than was normal for a public sidewalk. They were both laughing by the time he set her gently back on her feet, Scarlet more so than Wolf. “So, I guess that’s a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”


	2. Pine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anon.

                “This is ridiculous.” Scarlet muttered around the stylus she was chewing on. Honestly, how was this so _hard_? Surely it wasn’t supposed to be. It had all seemed so straightforward when she and Wolf had decided to get married. You find a church, you get an officiant, buy enough food to feed an army, and boom, partners for life. Simple. Scarlet frowned at the massive stack of fliers and checklists and sample invitations that filled their kitchen table, not to mention the guest list. No one, apparently, had mentioned that simple formula to Emilie. She must’ve brought them half the wedding boutique’s stash of vendor business cards. “Maybe we should elope.”

                “Emilie will murder us both if we do.” Wolf said casually and lifted first one swatch of cardstock to the light streaming through the bay window, then another, squinting at the subtle difference in the pale, creamy tones. “And if by some miracle, she doesn’t…Iko will.”

                “Ugh. I know.” Scarlet let her head drop to thunk against the hated layers of paper. It was mind-numbing. And if it was up to _her_ , they would’ve traipsed downtown and had a civil ceremony that lasted all of five minutes and which it would’ve been acceptable to wear jeans to. However, it seemed that intergalactic heroes didn’t get the option of planning their own weddings when they had a grateful village chomping at the bit to do it for them. “So would half the village.”

Giles had already claimed the honor of catering the affair. A local wedding boutique had sent a card offering their congratulations and a certificate for the dress of Scarlet’s choice free of charge. Three different churches and four event venues were immersed in a battle for the honor of hosting the wedding of two revolution heroes. The major newsfeed networks were already clamoring for a date and location to send their journalists to, while the gossip sites were buzzing with speculation regarding style trends and the names on the guest list that Wolf and Scarlet hadn’t even started on, let alone finalized.

                Scarlet felt a slight pang at the thought of the list, absently brushing her fingers over the empty sheet of paper with one side marked “Bride” and the other “Groom.” There were many reasons they hadn’t started it yet. Too little time, too many other details, but the biggest reason was clear as a bell.

There was nothing like making a guest list for making you realize how few people you had to put on it.

Other couples had lists bursting with friends, with _family_. They had the friends, certainly, but…family? Distant relatives and close-knit kin, uncles and aunts, cousins and siblings. Fathers. Mothers. Grandmothers. All the things that neither Wolf, nor Scarlet had anymore, and that they didn’t particularly want to think about if they didn’t have to.

“You know, my parents got married in the lumber sector next to ours. My mother always said the woods were the prettiest place for a wedding, with all the pine trees and the wildflowers.” Wolf’s eyes had drifted to the guest list, locking on the blank space under “groom” that should’ve held his mother’s name. He swallowed hard and looked away. “She…she would bring pinecones home on their anniversary, so the whole house would smell like pine. Nostalgia, I guess.”

Scarlet curled both of her hands around one of his and arched a speculative brow. “You know…we have woods.”

“We also have seven other locations fighting over us. And I doubt the film crews would be thrilled with hiking through the back forty.”

“Like that’s a bad thing?” They’d both had their picture taken more than enough times while working on the antidote distribution team. Keeping the vultures away from their wedding was pro, not a con. “Besides…even heroes deserve to make their own decisions once in a while.”


End file.
